


And The Stars Came Out And Blew Up My Sky

by homoceratops



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F, Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2790053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homoceratops/pseuds/homoceratops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When sixth-year Slytherin Carmilla Karnstein earns herself detention, she doesn't exactly expect it to end up changing her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And The Stars Came Out And Blew Up My Sky

The potions professor had it out for the raven-haired girl in the back of the class, this was for certain. Her green and black robes always a bit too tight, a dour expression permanently fixed to her face, she was the odd one out in the class - literally. In a class of twenty-eight Gryffindors and twenty-seven Slytherins, only Carmilla Karnstein was without a partner, permanently cast away to the farthest workbench from the front of the room to work on her assignments alone. But, if she was being honest, she didn’t entirely hate the solitude, and she’d rather complete her projects in relative quiet than tolerate one of her empty-headed housemates’ vapid babbling for an hour.

Quite unlike her successor, Madame Courtemanche was not dark and quiet and stuck in a state of perpetually distaste for her students; in fact, the woman could not have been more unlike the late Professor Snape if she tried. A bubbly, heavyset woman hailing from Hufflepuff, she was rarely seen without a grin across her face, always inquiring about her students’ families and lives outside of class. She’d even outfitted the potions dungeon with twinkling Christmas lights, because she thought the space was ‘too gloomy.’ From day one of the semester, she’d tried reaching out to the broody girl in the back of the class, growing increasingly frustrated as every attempt was dashed by the infuriatingly independent sixth year; this didn’t stop her from trying, though, and everyday she saw Carmilla trudge into class, she hoped today would be the day she’d let her in. Madame Courtemanche was optimistic to a fault.

"Alright, class, alright, class! Take your seats!" Her voice was sweet and melodic and motherly. "We haven’t a moment to waste. Today, we have a very exciting project to begin work on, and I’d rather not waste a single moment jibber-jabbering! Now, please," she said, a broad smile pulling at her red cheeks, "turn to page five-hundred and sixty-six."

The sound of students groaning followed by the flipping of hundreds of ancient pages filled the room until the students began to reach the chosen assignment. Murmurs of varying degrees of excitement ensued, with a few letting out a breathy, happy gasp of ‘Amortentia!’ The males in the room, however, seemed less than pleased. Madam Courtemanche grinned smugly - from year to year, the students were entirely predictable.

Eyes flitting about, they finally skipped to the curly head of black hair that sat at the last table in the dungeon, and though the girl looked as broodingly displeased as ever, she was certain she caught a hint of a twinkle in the student’s eye as she read the love potion’s name. Maybe the child did have a heart after all, she thought silently, nose crinkling in amusement.

As the pairs of students set to their work, filling cauldrons with all manner of odds and ends from the vials that lined the walls, Madame Courtemanche patrolled the room, offering advice where her charges went wrong, and chuckling to herself as she overheard the males in the room complain about how ‘stupid’ it was to have to make ‘this dumb potion’ anyway. “Who cares what it smells like, this is a waste of time,” one boy groaned, though the carefulness with which he measured his ingredients begged to differ; Madame Courtemanche bit her tongue.

Finally arriving at the final table in the classroom, she slowly pulled out the empty seat beside her unpaired student and joined her, watching with a quirked eyebrow at the intensity and pace of the girl’s work. In fact, not a half hour into the lesson, and Carmilla was already putting the finishing touches on her potion. “Wonderful, Miss Karnstein,” she finally said, eyes narrowed a bit as she watched the girl stir the misting concoction, “you’ve done just marvelously.” Leaning in to balance her head above the pewter cauldron, she took a whiff to measure just how well she’d completed the task, and as the scent of freshly baked strawberry tarts and copper coins hit her nostrils, Madame Courtemanche sighed just a bit.

"Just perfect, Miss Karnstein," she said, taking another breath then shaking off the dreamy tone in her voice, "you’ve done exceptionally. I am incredibly pleased with your work today."

"Yeah, well, it’s easy not to ruin the thing without adding these dreamy-eyed idiots into the equation," Carmilla replied matter-of-factly, a smirk on her face.

"I beg your pardon?" came the potions professor’s surprised reply.

"I told you on the first day I work better alone. See? Completely moron-proof." She closed her book and began cleaning up the materials that scattered across her desk. "Since I nailed it, I’m just gonna go now, okay? Maybe I can actually fit in a nap before the lovesick swarm follows me back to the common room." Standing to put away the vials on the shelf, a hard look formed on Madame Courtemanche’s face.

"Absolutely not." She huffed. "Put your vials away, Miss Karnstein, but you are certainly not returning to your common room anytime soon."

"Excuse me…?" came Carmilla’s surprised response.

"You have had nothing but an unfriendly and frankly, unpleasant attitude in this class since the school year began, and I think it’s about time you’ve earned an attitude adjustment." Scurrying to her desk, she scrawled something on a bit of parchment, folding it and thrusting it into Carmilla’s hands as she returned to the back of the dungeon. "Fifteen points from Slytherin, " she started, an a cluster of groans erupted from the left side of the room, "and you’re to report directly to the laundry facilities after you leave my classroom. Detention until lights out." She huffed again, giving a small shake of her head. "Perhaps a little hard work will teach you a lesson." Turning on her heel, Madame Courtemanche took a deep breath, her usual smile returning to her visage as she moved to help her other charges.

A confused grimace accented by embarrassed rosy-red cheeks, Carmilla quickly finished cleaning her workstation and picked up her cauldron to dump it down the drain on the room’s back wall. Sparkling liquid swirling away, the Amortentia gave off the same strange, sweet smell that it had the past thirty school years she’d prepared it, and even now, she still couldn’t place the aroma. Gathering her books, she slung her robe over her shoulders and slunk out of the dungeon toward the domain of the house elves. “Laundry. Wonderful,” she muttered, her words echoing off the damp walls.

__

Sleeves rolled up past her elbows, fingers wrinkled like prunes from the soapy water, and a look of pure distaste upon her face, Carmilla was nothing short of miserable as she washed load after load after stinking load of her classmates’ filthy bedsheets and soiled underthings. How much laundry could a student body even produce? She’d be stuck with the house elves for what felt like hours, sorting and washing and drying in an endlessly monotonous dance that left her wishing for a stake through the heart. And yet, as miserable as she was, the little pointy-eared creatures seemed content, happy almost, with the activity. Giving her eyes a roll, she sighed loudly, hoping one of the might see fit to finally release her from this hell.

Bending down to pick up another basket, she groaned a bit as she straightened her back, feeling for age for the first time in a very long while. It was just a little basket, some Hufflepuff’s judging by the obscene amount of yellow inside the bin’s wicker walls, mostly bedsheets. Carmilla sighed as she lifted the linens into the laundry basin, dousing them with soap. Dropping it back to the floor, she glanced down, noticing another piece of cloth at the bottom of the basket. “Fuck,” she murmured, crouching again to retrieve it, though as she picked it up, she was suddenly struck by the oddest sensation.

Looking down at the yellow pillowcase in her hands, something about it was so… familiar. She racked her brain - was it the same linens her roommate had? No. Was it something about the shade of the yellow? No, no that. Was it… Suddenly, it hit her. Looking around for a moment to see if the house elves were watching her, Carmilla cautiously lifted the piece of fabric to her face, inhaling deeply. Her eyes went wide. There was no way.

Closing her eyes and inhaling again, the familiar, sweet scent filling up her lungs and setting her entire body on fire, Carmilla instantly recognized the the smell of the Amortentia she’d prepared just hours before. Could it really be that this insignificant scrap of cloth was what she’d been smelling for centuries? Causing her so much grief and fear that she was so far gone that she couldn’t even recognize the smell of love? Tears prickled her eyes a bit as the relief that some human part of her still remained washed over her, and suddenly, it occurred to Carmilla that the smell wasn’t just the pillowcase it was… someone. Her someone? The possibility caused her body to tingle with anticipation. Unfolding it, she looked down at the tag, neatly labeled in a steady hand. ‘L. Hollis - Hufflepuff.’ Her someone had a name.

"Can I go?" she suddenly blurted out, standing up straight and looking down at the house elves around her, waiting for one to grant permission. Not even fully waiting for an answer, she clutched the yellow pillowcase to her chest and broke into a joke, bounding out of the laundry room. "I need to go see Madame Courtemanche!" she yelled, unable to disguise the glee in her voice, and leaving the elves feeling quite confused. "You can’t keep that," one muttered as Carmilla skipped out of earshot, though clearly the girl wasn’t one for silly things like rules. She had far more important things to attend to.

__

Running at a breakneck speed down the halls of the Hogwarts dungeons, Carmilla eagerly wished Madame Courtemanche would still be in her office, even as the close of day approached. Turning a corner at an alarming velocity and almost ramming into a suit of armor, she navigated the twists and turns of the damp corridors until she reached the familiar, heavy wooden door, still ajar, light seeping out from inside the room. Carmilla could not recall a time when she was happier to see the potions classroom.

"Madame Courtemanche!" she called, bursting in through the door, laying eyes on the ever-jovial woman who sat at her desk, flanked on either side by stacks of parchment paper. The professor looked up, startled and confused as she laid eyes on the dark-haired girl, at once concerned for what could have possibly gotten her in such a state. "Miss Karnstein," she replied, trying to maintain her professional composure, "this is certainly not the time nor place. You should be in bed at this hour," she continued before raising an eyebrow, "or at the very least, finishing up your laundry chores on the other side of the castle." She looked out at the girl over cat-eye spectacles. "Though, tell me, what on earth has gotten into you?"

A dopey smile pulled at the corners of Carmilla’s mouth as she raised her arm, the yellow pillowcase still balled in her fist. “This,” she said, grinning like the ‘lovesick morons’ she so despised. “Madame Courtemanche, it’s my Amortentia, I found it!” she cheered giddily, “I found it, I found it, I finally found it,” she babbled. Understandably, the potions professor was confused, an eyebrow cocking upwards as she stared at her unusually happy student. “Found… what dear?”

"It’s her, she’s my… my… who’s ‘L. Hollis?’ I know she’s in Hufflepuff, see?" she burst out, waving the tag in the professor’s face.

“‘L. Hollis?’” the portly woman questioned. “Laura? Laura Hollis?” Her eyes flitted to the tiny blonde in her own house.

"Laura Hollis. Laura." Carmilla sighed a bit, the name on her lips as though it held the secret to all of the world’s troubles. The girl nodded, pulling the pillowcase to her chest once more, letting the smell linger as it wafted by her nostrils. "Professor, I need to meet her." The tone in her voice was still dreamlike, but suddenly urgent, as though nothing had ever been more important.

"Miss Karnstein," she started, still not fully understanding the situation. "I’m not quite sure what you’re asking of me."

Carmilla sighed, walking forward and putting the pillowcase on the desk, leaning her hands against the desk, meeting Madame Courtemanche’s eye level. “This, this right here?” she gestured at the linen. “This is my Amortentia. Am I being clear?” The woman looked down at the pillowcase, then up at Carmilla, her eyes pleading, and suddenly, what exactly was going on became starkly clear. “Oh,” she replied, a knowing grin finally pulling at her plump cheeks. “Carmilla this is wonderful.”

A slight blush crossed the student’s pale skin, and she fought back a girlish giggle. “So…” she hesitated, “can you help me?”

Madame Courtemanche nodded. “Don’t worry about a thing, darling. Just meet me here right before breakfast, alright? I’ll take care of everything.” She smiled wider, relieved that perhaps young Carmilla Karnstein did have a heart after all.

"Thank you," Carmilla breathed, reaching out to pick up the yellow pillowcase once again, her long fingers closing around it as she retreated, giddy what-ifs flying through her head as she walked toward the classroom door.

"Carmilla, dear, you can’t keep that…" the professor said, though her words trailed off as she realized the girl wasn’t listening at all. "No harm done, I suppose," she said, shrugging with a lopsided grin, the cogs and gears already turning in her head.

__

The next morning couldn’t come soon enough, and as exhausted as her laborious hours with the house elves had left her, Carmilla couldn’t seem to sleep a wink, pouncing out of bed just as soon as the first pink fingers of the sunrise began to climb past the trees. Dressing hastily, she threw a blouse and her robe over her lucky leather trousers, running her hands through her curls and hoping to whatever powers that were watching that maybe, just maybe, whatever her potions professor had in mind might go according to plan.

Dodging the prefects who wandered the halls before breakfast time, Carmilla slunk through the dungeons toward the classroom that had once been such a source of hatred for her, unable to keep the goofy smile from her face. Approaching the woman’s door, she saw it was already open, and the light was on, and the butterflies that had been inhabiting Carmilla’s stomach all night were suddenly in a tizzy. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door, and there she stood.

Back turned and peaking at Madame Courtemanche’s desk stood a small girl, long dark blonde hair gracing her shoulders, and a too-big Hufflepuff robe hanging off her shoulders. Her breath catching in her throat a little bit, her coughed, hoping to get the professor’s attention. Suddenly catching Carmilla out of the corner of her eye, the woman gave a knowing smile and said something low to the blonde. Then louder, “Laura, this is Carmilla, she’s in my Tuesday and Thursday potions class. I thought it prudent that you two be introduced.”

Finally seeing the stranger’s face, Carmilla’s mouth dropped agape for a moment - she was beautiful. How had she never noticed her in the castle before?

"Hi," she said finally, her mind completely blank and at a loss for words. "You, uh, you don;t know me, but," and she cleared her throat, suddenly more nervous than she could ever recall have felt before. "But, uh, I thought, that maybe, if you, uh… what was I saying?"

Laura giggled, seemingly amused by the Slytherin’s antics. She stepped a bit closer, her brows suddenly furrowing. “I…?” Laura glanced towards Madame Courtemanche, then back up at Carmilla. “Are you… are you wearing perfume? You smell really familiar…” Carmilla bit her lip - this wasn’t exactly what she had expected.

"Yeah," she replied, playing along, "why?"

Madame Courtemanche looked on, amused at what she’d set in motion.

"I think I’m supposed to kiss you," Laura said matter-of-factly, and in a swift motion, the tiny Hufflepuff took a step forward, grabbed Carmilla’s face and lifted herself onto her tiptoes. As their lips met, Carmilla’s wide, surprised eyes closed and she melted, a dreamy look still plastered on her face as their mouths parted.

Eyes finally opening, her jaw still hung open in surprise, eyes looking down at Laura, a bright pink blush creeping across the blonde’s face and turning the tips of her ears crimson.

Carmilla chuckled, unable to contain her joy. “Ten points to Hufflepuff.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like all my works, this was intended to be a one-shot. Please do not message me looking for additional chapters or "what happens next," because this is it. Sorry, loves.


End file.
